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Friday, November 20, 2015

A day to share with others, no matter what, and a day, like all days
to be sure that all are forgiven! That's what today is for me! -- as
2014 draws to a close, and as 2015 draws near closure I want all who have ever crossed my path to know
that they are forgiven! --Anything that has ever been done to me, for
whatever reason: all is forgiven! because "language matters"
--language of what we say, don't say! --language of how we hurt, heal,
soothe; language of how we touch, how we interact, how we believe, how
we praise, how we denounce, how we live, blame,

--I don't want this day, this moment this season to end without my
spreading forgiveness to all! --including (and especially Charles Jones:
a reason for my spiraling): I forgive him for being the first man to
get me pregnant without my permission, without my consent; I forgive him for all of that; I forgive his brother
Gregory, for introducing me to Charles, his older brother; I forgive
them all. I forgive Blondell; I forgive Everest Tucker, I forgive
Michelle who I hope will have a good life without me. I will no longer pretend to be her mother, she has a living mother. I forgive Dennis, a son who I
hope will also forgive me, no matter how or why he became a son, first baby I got to take home and raise as my own; my ex-spouse felt adoption would be "fair", neither one of us related; but I do point out that he was related to his niece, and that was a disastrous period of my life. I still wanted to have a baby of my own, and I could, still wanted to experience pregnancy, and I did; thanks to a generous sperm donor.

Though he is nameless, I thank him so much for what he did, Donor 513, via Fairfax Cryobank: thank you very much. If my son has siblings, they are all through you. This is my gratitude right here. Though you don't know him, the son I had through you is marvelous in every way.. Perhaps someday you will meet. He was born in the summer of 1991... I became pregnant in 1990 through Boston IVF, in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

first photo of my son

Thylias enjoying the last weeks of pregnancy,
North Andover, Massachusetts, 1991

My ex-spouse forbade me from pursuing this unique pleasure, sought to deny me the opportunity to be pregnant because he couldn't accept his own infertility. He must come to terms with whatever life brings. I do not chose to have MS, but have accepted it....My physiological functioning is miraculous to be sure. I survived an aneurysm rupture which also led to dissolution of the marriage, and while as a single woman, I haven't always made the best choices, I still like being single for the first time as an adult. Love will happen; I am not worried about that.

My ex-spouse couldn't deal with his own infertility, and took it out on me. I
forgive LT Randle, I forgive Dothlyn Smith, (for intruding into my
marriage), I forgive my ex-spouse who permitted , who wanted the intrusion of Ms. Smith into the marriage, and who lied that he ever fathered any pregnancies of mine --he fathered none. I speak only the truth. --sorry if I didn't mention you by name --but you are in fact forgiven!

--Without becoming a doormat, I still forgive so many, all --and I hold no grudge; All are absolved
--I carry into 2015 none of what has happened to me during my 60 years...

I am living a new life now, full of the challenges and unknowns of any life. Mine is no different. This will be the last time that I need mention any of this. Chapter is closed. I will not be writing a memooir about being married. I was much too young, a teenager. and it's over now... New chapter in progress...

Girls, please try to avoid my mistakes. On this day in the fall of 2015, I am 61, and here to tell you that there is joy beyond youth.

Friday, March 28, 2014

I don't want to remember, yet I do; I'd rather be asleep --as if I've eaten something incompatible with my system. Something I can't digest --though I've had many years to get used to it.

I'm recalling --though I don't want to-- THE DAY when my deceased ex-father-in-law said I wasn't a "real mother" because I'd adopted my children, one of whom was his niece --didn't matter to him (he also didn't come to my wedding, for which I made all dresses in the wedding party except my wedding gown) .... Clearly the way he defined "what constituted "real" differed extremely from ways in which I defined "real" / "realities".... So what was the equivalent of a "real" mother?

It was winter, and NEW HAMPSHIRE SNOW fell prodigiously. Here and there were animal tracks like forks, and hoarfrost patterns on windows that my cheeks tried to pilfer, pressed against these panes. Loved the spray when wind stirred up the powdery snow, twirled it and released it so that it fell again rather lacy. I couldn't wait to make bootprints. NEW HAMPSHIRE SNOW.

Durham was a wonderful small town, and our niece (so that she'd remain in the family when her mother --whose identical twin also lost custody of her children, for similar reasons of neglect-- lost custody and the children were removed from the home) was there stealing money. I read to her daily, and she performed okay in the Oyster River Schools (other than stealing the money)... What a change this way of life was for her; if we were in touch, I'd ask her how it felt to live in New Hampshire.... What did she think of the mountains? of Franconia Notch, and the Old Man of the Mountain? Did this environment have the effect on her life that I'd hoped it would? What was it like for her to live on a college campus? --to eat in the dining hall? --to watch me study and also teach? (I was a TA). She moved with us, of course to Andover Massachusetts where I worked at Phillips Academy right after grad school --that's when problems really escalated.... she discovered boys --started staying out all night with them --but couldn't take advantage of the tuition reduction! --we would only have had to pay 10% of tuition [10% of about $20,000.00] had she been able scholastically, intellectually, and emotionally to attend PA --however, having missed those first eight (including nine month of pregnancy, so roughly another year), meant that any influence of these new --and wealthy!-- in the space of PA environments didn't change her enough to allow her to take advantage of all that the northern Massachusetts setting had to offer....

Better to have made a total break. She will never be part of my life again.

She was twelve when she started running away.... and twelve when police brought her back. She began running away every weekend, and I resorted to locking the door to her room to try to keep her there, but that proved ineffective as she climbed out the window in order to run away! --initially from Andover, Massachusetts to Lawrence, Massachusetts; this occurred for years! --until she was 17, when she ran away for the last time, back to the state in which she'd lived before the attempted rescue via adoption! --I grew weary of all this running away! --quite a paper trail evolved! --a each time the police became involved, a record was kept! --I'd never been involved with the police! --they became like members of the family! --when she ran away for what was the last time, she told authorities in that mid-western state that we'd put her out, but this wasn't true, of course (she was also a pathological liar, and had been for years); by then; had to hire a lawyer in the state to which she ran, but we had extensive documentation, from the police, and this lawyer said that he'd never seen documentation as extensive as what I had, so when he presented this evidence in court, the judge was impressed, and rescinded the adoption! I couldn't travel because I was pregnant --after my ex-spouse announced that: if he couldn't have children, then neither could I! --I was almost thirty-seven and nearing an age when it wouldn't be optimal for my body to try to sustain a pregnancy; fertility would decline, and I also knew that I could get pregnant, so for a full year before executing my plan I prepared my body for a new life! --I was ready, no longer a teenager, and quite accomplished, having published several volumes of poetry and having won several awards, which PA didn't require, but the private high school had only minors attending, including the son of Dick Gregory (Yohance Gregory), Patrick Kennedy, younger half-brother of Sade --Soji Adu, and a middle-eastern Princess, I was told, whose parents sent her to PA to escape various situations, and the age of these minors, meant that they required 24/7 care, and the "best" housing --all provided by PA was in dormitories, so taking a dorm was advised! --if you wanted prime housing, huge houses --head "master" resided in a while mansion in the center of campus --and we slaves resided in lesser accommodations

--while I was at PA, my final year there, I had six job offers to six different universities, including the University of New Hampshire where I'd been a graduate student... This seemed extraordinary to me! One job offer came from the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, an offer I accepted, after the contract was re-written to give my then spouse a job, as I refused to come unless he was also employed, so a job was "created" for him! --I spoke up, although he didn't as we stood on that porch....

I had to delay my start at the University of Michigan because I was pregnant, and there was no problem with the delay... As I said earlier, I became concerned when my then-spouse announced that if he couldn't have children, then neither could I! As I lived only about 23 miles north of Boston/Cambridge, and as I'd prepared my body for a pregnancy, I realized I was in an ideal location for a sperm donor. To appease me, my then spouse agreed that adopting another child, a baby would be fine, and made us equal, as neither one of us would be related to that infant; so that's what happened.... We adopted a baby, a healthy baby from Massachusetts, the other child that my ex-spouse's father referred to when he announced that I wasn't a "real" mother...

--If other players here tell this story, they can't possibly offer MY
point of view! --only their own! --which can't be like mine. This
healthy boy has grown into a man, and he's innocent of all of this! --he
was just a baby, and had no input into what was happening.... He didn't
know until he was an adult that he was adopted at all... But this was
information he needed to have. He was born to a teenage girl in Boston;
she was the age I would have been had I actually had the baby from my
first pregnancy from the rape. Perhaps the way I told him he was
adopted wasn't the best way, but he did need to be told, since he hadn't
figured it out. So much deception in this small family... I'm sorry
for everything I did wrong... Except for getting pregnant a second time
and actually having that baby! --something I had to do, and time was
running out. I hope that he understands my situation also...
Point of view is about all we have, and this is mine; presented from my
perspective --just as valid as any other. I mean no hard feelings for
anyone--

And I was getting older; I didn't have much time left! --I was 36, and my eggs were getting older by the minute, and I didn't want to risk having a child that suffered because of advanced maternal age... I had to act quickly, despite the edit from my ex-spouse that: "IF I CAN'T HAVE A CHILD, THEN NEITHER CAN YOU! --I had to act or pregnancy never would have happened; would have been an extinction (there will be anyway; humans won't always be around --and the world keeps changing, pollution and so forth --human aggression, and perhaps another mass extinction via comet?--unless we destroy ourselves)

But first, I had to be raped, and I had to have a third-trimester abortion, and I had to get married, and I had to adopt children, and I had to become pregnant by choice, going to a fertility clinic in Cambridge, Massachusetts, after being told that if my then-spouse that if he couldn't have children, then neither could I, as that wouldn't be fair; baby related to me, but not him! --as if I was related to his niece! --I'm not, and her mother, my ex's sister is alive! ---Nor am I going to pretend to be anyone's grandmother or great grandmother-- I don't even know that child; not my responsibility... The biological grandmother and great-grandmother, the same woman, is ALIVE! forge a relationship with her before it's too late.

Then I started having preterm labor! (for which I was given Brethine, form of Terbutaline --so successful that my baby was born two weeks late, huge thanks to Donor #513, and Fairfax Cryobank; two nights before his birth, I ate at Legal Seafoods, Arctic Char, and plenty of vegetables, large salad --undressed--so was put on complete bed rest, and a bill form the fertility clinic came to our Andover, Massachusetts home, a bill they my then spouse brought in and discovered that he wasn't the biological father of my unborn child.... All he said to me was: "Didn't I consider AIDS?" --I had more chance of contracting AIDS from him (just a bit of a philanderer) than I had from the fertility clinic, as donors are very well screened! --certified free of disease and genetic disorder! --well-scrutinized! --so my ex-spouse always knew that he wasn't the biological father, and I had the baby I wanted to have....A tasty meal indeed!

Of course I was in love (eventually; fluctuated between love of my captor Stockholm syndrome and, guess I really don't know what "true love" is like. Maybe I'll find out now; first time that I'll really choose a man instead of a man choosing himself for me.... --I'd never been with a man --other than the rapist. (and now --then-- I was with a statutory rapist,

Everything was new to me, especially touching, as it will be with a new man, as it has already been with a new man... I do like that; I liked to touch to be touched back... and here;s a little example, me reading performing a poem: "Higginson Matters", a text version will be in my forthcoming book of New and Selected Poetry": "Wannabe Hochie Mama Gallery of Realties' Red Dress Code", Persea Books, Fall 2016

Took me a long time, to reach this, but I did reach it. And this poem is reaching other points, for how long who knows? --but so exciting to try to reach them! At least I had a chance to know what it's like to be desired, to be told how pretty and beautiful I am, by a man who made me believe it, and was such a perfect lover! --even if only one time, I now can say that I know what it's like to be totally desired! --I had to be 60-years-old before I found out, but let me tell you, I really found out!

I hope that every woman finds her Higginson at least once in a lifetime; who doesn't deserve to know something as wondrous as this? And I'm so very glad I did! --pleasure that had been only rumors, but now I know, and if only once in my life, this happened!Me now:

Thylias Moss now, September 2015

My ex-spouse says he was quite popular when he was in the military and had at least 50 girlfriends, probably cheated on them also. I wouldn't know, and hardly matters now... I'm saying this only because this was what my ex denied, what he wanted covered up for the sake of his manhood... Seemed to care very little about the TRUTH.When I was 17, still a baby --and victim of statutory rape-- I tore up all their pictures (I wouldn't do that now --it's just that he seemed so proud of them, but since he had me, I reasoned that he didn't need them, a childish thing to do --he says he was even engaged to one of them. He seemed to prefer lighter complexioned mixed women, and he said that women seemed to like him also... quite a bit. That's what made it so puzzling when I found out two weeks after the wedding --we were already "legally" married, had been so for almost two months --so technically, this was adultery;but two weeks after the wedding, I discovered he'd been having an affair for nearly two years, with someone much more dark-complexioned than me, someone I didn't think he'd ever marry --of course not, he married me! --someone not his type, based on appearance, just someone to f**k, and not bring home, exclusively in the dark - so they'd both blend in!(how cruel of me to say, as if this still bothers me)--I discovered this affair quite innocently; I'd called him to invite him home for lunch, and he wasn't there....

He'd gone to see her, meeting her --she was at the door, dressed only in birth control --that she didn't know she didn't need-- lunch of sex! --that's also why I was inviting him home for lunch! --I really had prepared some food, then I was going to feed him something else, even more substantialmore lasting on all of his palettes... (except the one for paramours)--but I was ready when he came home with his grandfather!--I confronted him with evidence, letters from this Island girl--her promises of undying love. That Island Girl.. That Island Girl also... Mistress from the West Indies, but quite Africanized (as typically understood, even if incorrectly).

And her signed photo, with messages of undying love
written on the back,
her promise that she'd always be available (not true;
she's moved on with her life,and is no longer available to him
--not that he's looking for her or for anyone)
would always love him [recently found her on Facebook,
and didn't friend her,
but told her--in a private message-- I had no hard feelings...
(guess I was just wondering how she looked now,
and what a confirmation I received....
(ouch! --of my own looks) --she's even less his type now....

--well, he didn't frame it or leave it sitting out in the open; I really had to dig to find it... and I do wonder how long this affair would have continued, and I wonder how much other philandering might have occurred had I not found this stuff, this secret stash?

She was more than willing to offer herself exclusively for sex...

(not really trying to rationalize all this;

just want some perspective
as I move on, and I am moving on...
Post-menopausal, so no more biological babies for me.
I mean no harm to my adopted children, both now adults
and as happy as they can be
Under these strained circumstances.
Truth, from my perspective, isn't necessarily pretty,
but it is some truth!
--I owe all of us some truth!
More truth:
Pity that I couldn't give my biological son a sibling;
no way could I repeat
what I did in order to have him...
No idea how many siblings he might have from the donor....
Sure that all of this has wrecked his sense of family....
None of us are perfect! Well,
all of us are are "perfectly" what we are...
--I'm sure that my biological and adopted children
have things they'd change about themselves if they could....

not finished as long as we live, and even then, disintegrate
and becoming feasts for microbes that are making their living,
doing what microbes do... (Yes; I enjoyed CSI, among other things,
and various books about anatomical fodder --after all,
humans are part of animal systems
on this planet
and are as edible as anything else that is or becomes edible
--there's much that can be ingested
whether or not it's nutritious, or even designated as food).
My point here is to talk only about what I'm remembering
and connecting to --temporarily-- none of this is permanent
via, quite fallible, systems of memory....
Mentioning others only as I must.
Just dressing some of my open wounds.... Just being myself,
less restricted than I've ever been....
but still within (my) limits which keep shifting
--especially with the MS.
______
Getting back to a remembering marriage track:

What a fantastic brouhaha! --I was livid! How dare he do this! --two years of this! --didn't matter how "pretty" I might have been at nineteen! --"beautiful bride"

Moxie Supper the teenage bride (Thylias Moss)

--Ostensibly at first to help her in school; he could never be of help to me in school; I needed no assistance with my studies!
--he was my sexual tutor many years ago, but never my intellectual tutor or suitor.

I want that perfume now!
to use for someone else. Move forward, dance with someone else! --not someone so unable to accept his infertility, that he continues to lie to his family, but such lying doesn't alter the Fact! --THERE IS NO BIOLOGICAL CONNECTION BETWEEN MY EX AND MY SON! --NO BIOLOGICAL CONNECTION AT ALL BETWEEN THE MOSS FAMILY AND ME: THYLIAS MOSS, "moss", a name I acquired in marriage... name I've had for 42 years, my "legal" name, all of my books were written by Thylias Moss: most recently: Tokyo Butter published by Persea Books in 2007, cover is a USB microscope image I took of a rose from my first cousin funeral, says "Dierdre" in the collection, but my cousin's actual name was Hilda. I still miss her; the closest I ever had as a sister... Her birthday was/is 25 November 1953.

and then I relented, welcomed him back home, and remained married for 40 years. But now I'm out of that and all those lies! --that he fathered four more pregnancies with me, that all ended in miscarriage! Completely untrue! only two pregnancies in y life --the first when I was 15, conceived as a consequence of rape, and the second when I was thirty-six and determined to have a sperm donor biological father, a man more like me, a man with a graduate degree, a man who reads books, a man who offers me much more than I had in my marriage...

Win some, lose some, and keep on going! ----
Justa dose of ever-evolving perspective...
Necessary to update my views --not apologize for them,
for this is what happened, from the point of view I had
when I awakened in the hospital from the rupture of a cranial
aneurysm --may look a bit different tomorrow,
what I don;t accept are the lies! the claiming to be the biological father
of my only biological child, that I almost didn't get to have because of him!

He didn't dance with me at my prom, he took me; I was only 17, and he didn't dance with me at the wedding either and here's how I looked for the prom:

I could have danced!

But as a blog is a single continuous page; there's room to state whatever
emerges, and those alluded to here remain free to express their own points
of view --I don't expect those involved (to be able) to view
these events as I do,
but they happened....

Sunday, March 23, 2014

I realize I come to this late Blog Woman, but how persuasive this post is is! (responding to this Huffington Post article —thank you so much for posting! –my scars (repaired head following a rupture of an aneurysm) wouldn’t photograph nearly as well, but this is absolutely essential! –remnants of what’s left after cancerous consumption! –cancer is very hungry, (hungrier than Moxie Supper, who's sometimes just "greedy", but is often finicky --within her greed), and these pictures are a way of also feeding! --eating what’s necessary to survive even better! –I applaud this! -–I guess I too fear some unfriending, for many, many reasons, (some probably deserved, but not all of it; “life” has happened to me also, and I too continue, some form of me continues, only form (my "new normal") there will ever be –ie: this is the form from which changes will be made! –I’ll not remain just as I am, changing by the minute, going on to "I-can’t-say-what-for-sure", but traveling nevertheless… and often happy, often grateful that I can still travel at all! –-feeding on whatever becomes available. Having to feed in order to maintain any form of existence! Blog Woman, I realize that I'm reiterating much of what has been said, but this is just a wonderful post! I suppose that I don't want to be "unfriended" either, and certainly not for changes in my body! --unavoidable, I feel, just be living to certain ages! --is a "change" of a way and "rule" of existence? --which seems to be "change" --I'm nothing like the promise of me when I was born 60 years ago; I've changed substantially, and I'm not done; even when I die, my body willcontinue to change, and will be a feast for microbes, many of which are already with in me, held back by a living status, but when I die (and I will) that status will be invalid, ad those microbes can feat on this tiny body... only about 90 pounds and 4'10" tall... but still enough for a feast.

I don't have scars that are as visible as Beth's; mine are much more invisible (scar from a ruptured aneurysm; indentation on my head [that was bumpy anyway]), and the blindness, legal blindness, in my left eye due to optic neuritis due to MS (diagnosed in 1996, though I'd had MS since graduate school [when symptoms manifested in a first exacerbation in 1981[[face, lower right jaw, attributed to test anxiety, rigors of graduate study; legs next time ~circa 1982/3, swelling [[in my mind]] like incredible loaves of bread]] then dormant until 1996 --scars inside my body; not outside), and also scars from a c-section performed for the birth of my only biological child --old scar still visible from when I fell off a bike, breaking a glass jug of milk --still have scars above my knees from that, and from falling into a barbed wire fence "protecting a small tree lawn in Ohio, --and also emotional scars after a divorce after forty years when I was a teenager when I married at nineteen, who did a best that she could, becoming pregnant after a rape when I was just fifteen, rapist was an older man, 25 when I was fifteen. Remembered where he worked, this Deacon at my mother's church, so I called him and tried to tell him that I was pregnant, but he never spoke to me again, and hung up the phone... I had a third trimester abortion --after that rapist refused to ever speak to me again...

I was unable to tell anyone --not even --especially not my parents!-- I was left silent and frigid --"symptoms" the man I married (23 when I met him when I was still 16) vowed to cure --at first, of course, I didn't want him to touch me, but eventually I overcame that --I was still in high school, and stopped speaking altogether --should I be unfriended for this?

--not that Facebook "friends" are "friends" in any other context, but they're still called "friends" --and seems to me that carries some responsibilities. What would it take for me to "unfriend" someone? --Maybe I'd do this to escape more parts of high school, a regrettable time of my life --the ruptured aneurysm purged my brain of quite a bit of short term memory keeping --I'm not yet as bold as Beth (though I did "like" her page, and am following it) --I can't yet state what I'm saying and feeling (don't quite have the "Moxie", I suppose; but I can't yet state what I have to say without the protection of (pretty much "rapist-free) physical space --I do indeed remain hungry --perhaps just for a chance to live those years again, and do things I didn't do, and so things I did differently --your post Blog Woman, has enabled me to say this! --thank you so much...

But friending and unfriending has become so easy --as it is for liking and unliking things --strange that there are no other options...

Monday, March 17, 2014

Referred to Charlie Chaplin's dance with forks (love these tools of access) and rolls as the "potato dance"! --I was just so hungry!http://youtu.be/ww5pb-z0o0I (fork dance) at moxie.supper.com
Charlie Chaplin's dance with fork and rolls makes me crave that meal! --especially the forks! --Such tools oa access! you can watch that segmant here: (love these tools of access) and rolls as the "potato dance"! --I was just so hungry!http://youtu.be/ww5pb-z0o0I (fork dance)